


back in the game

by logictron



Series: harvester of light [1]
Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logictron/pseuds/logictron
Summary: Back in the field, tensions run high. Hannah needs someone to let off steam. Amir is just the one to do it. If only he'd stop asking stupid questions.





	back in the game

**Author's Note:**

> This is smut, y'all. So there's your warning. It's not exactly PWP but it's smut nonetheless. I'm a little obsessed with this pairing and I needed a breather from the intensity of all the Jalton after this week's episode, so instead I focused on next week! 
> 
> I'm still working out both of these muses, so if either of them seems OOC, I apologize. The only way to figure them out is to write them so here we are. :)
> 
> Feedback is better than gold.
> 
> (Not beta'd, none of it belongs to me, etc etc)

Colombia isn't Mexico. That's all Hannah keeps telling herself every time the nerves flare up and she starts wondering if she has any business being back in the field. She's been dying, for months, to get off desk duty (as much as she's enjoyed working for Patricia). But with the chance basically handed to her on a silver platter, it had suddenly felt daunting.

Noah had figured out her trepidation almost immediately. Of course he had. And while he was entirely well-meaning, Hannah could never stomach being treated with kid-gloves. So she'd put on a brave face, brushed up on her weapons training, and gotten on the plane.

Landing in Bogota, Hannah finds herself more nervous about meeting the team than anything else. The DIA feels a million miles away, and despite how connected she feels to Dalton's team, she can't help but be aware of too many things. Namely that their team hasn't been on a mission since Iran. And that their merry band of five is noticeably down a man. Or woman. 

Jaz had come back. The team had made certain of that. Hannah hadn't slept for several days, and neither had anyone else. Until they found her. Until they were safely across the border But that was only the first step. And Hannah knows that better than most. So it's not a surprise when, barring her physical injuries (extensive but fixable), the army psychologist promptly shuts down any talk of Jaz returning. Not yet. Not for a while. And Dalton just as rapidly makes it perfectly clear they'll operate just fine as a four man team until Jaz is back in working order. 

But the fact is, the team is a little short handed at four. And only one of the four of them speaks Spanish fluently (Adam's is passable but by no means convincing enough to be considered native). So it makes sense for Hannah to go. But it doesn't make her feel any less awkward about the situation. She has no intention of trying to replace Jaz. And Patricia assures her they all know that. But she can't shake the feeling anyway.

Hannah's grateful that it's Amir who picks her up from the airport. No sense in the whole team showing up. Amir is new, like her. And they have similar history working undercover. Plus, being the other fluent Spanish-speaker, the two of them would most likely be paired up on this mission, however it plays out.

"It's...nice to meet you," Hannah greets awkwardly, laughing when Amir chuckles and reaches to shake her hand.

"Likewise. Nice to have you here." He takes her bag before she can object.

"You know how bad it would look if I let you walk out of here carrying this while I'm empty-handed?" He asks, explaining, already making his way back toward the exit. 

Hannah can't exactly argue with that. Time to get her head back in the game.

**

Things unfold a little differently than she expects. The mission ends up a hostage negotiation paired with a terrorist bomb threat. It almost gets messy, because Dalton almost refuses to let her take the reins, and with Patricia temporarily suspended, pending investigation, Hannah has no one to defer to. She has to take it up with Adam herself.

"I get that you're wary. I do. But that's why you should let me do this. My head is clear," she says, careful to keep her voice measured and low. No use in drawing the attention of anyone else. Hannah's not trying to call Dalton out. She just wants to help.

"And mine isn't," he says, leaving a long moment of tension between them where all she can do is look at him and wait. But it seems to work and he exhales, looking away. "Alright, fine. But you run everything by me first,got it? It's my name on the line here, not yours."

Hannah nods and takes the headset when he offers it. One battle down, who knows how many more to go. But there's the unmistakable flutter in her chest, the one that makes her blood sing. She's definitely up for the fight.

**

The mission flips on its head after that. Dalton somehow ends up sneaking into the underbelly of the plane, McG not far behind. Preach is busy running scenarios, trying to figure out a way to disengage the bomb,and that leaves her and Amir to talk to the hostage-taker. When she feels like talking.

"I thought the FARC disbanded," he muttered, handing Hannah a fresh cup of coffee. If nothing else, there was good coffee here.

"Officially, sure. But it wasn't exactly an overwhelming majority." Hannah sighed, narrowing her eyes at the plane, though there was nothing to see. Not from here. "With a group that large, there are bound to be dissidents. People who won't be happy unless there is true communism. Anarchy. Whatever, pick your poison."

Amir nods thoughtfully. "I guess hijacking a plane is one way to accomplish that..."

"Publicity is power. Just the way the world works." Hannah stares at the screen, checking Dalton and McG's body cams, absently rubbing the scar on the side of her neck.

"You doing okay?" Amir asks and Hannah laughs, dragging her eyes away from the monitor to look at him. He looks marginally concerned and it just makes her laugh more.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but it's kind of a terrible question. If I say yes, you either judge me or you think I'm lying. If I say no, you think I'm not capable of running the mission."

"That's not...I'm sorry, you're right. I just...you went up against Top. You're running this whole damn show. Patricia's gone. Jaz...It's a lot,that's all," Amir says, shrugging. "I'd never doubt your capabilities."

"There's innuendo to be made there somewhere," Hannah notes, arching her brow at him. Adam's voice crackles to life in her earpiece and there's no time for her to think about that anymore.

**

Dalton and McG manage to take the bomb offline before it goes off. Getting the hostages off the plane turns out to be more difficult. Kat, the FARC dissident who hijacked the plane, seems hellbent on taking out as many innocents as she can. They don't have Jaz, who definitely could've managed a killshot had they managed to get her on the plane, but they do have Amir.

Sending a third team member onto the plane isn't ideal, but after sussing out their options for the hundredth time, she decides its the only one worth doing. Noah, thankfully, agrees.

"You doing okay?" she asks after Amir suits up, a smile tugging at her lips despite the circumstances. Maybe a little because of them.

"First I carry your luggage, then you yell at me, and now you're sending me into a hostage situation. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like me." Amir levels her with a stare but there's amusement flashing in his eyes.

"I'd say your people-reading skills need work," Hannah replies.

"Tonight, you're buying me a drink." She watches him check his gun one more time.

"You don't drink." That catches his attention and he grins at her.

"Maybe you do like me after all."

Adam's voice interrupts again and Hannah watches Amir head off across the tarmac. She kind of wishes she had that drink right about now.

**

It takes less than thirty minutes to wrap things up. Kat is dead, the hostages are alive. McG, Dalton, and Amir all came through unscathed, and the euphoria she feels is unbeatable. For as rewarding as working at the DIA is, this kind of thrill is the thing she's missed. It's her drug of choice and her last fix was far too long ago.

"Hey, Rivera," Amir's voice finds her, shakes her out of her reverie. "You doing okay?"

"Fucking fantastic," she deadpans before flashing him a smile.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Me too."

**

The bar isn't anything special. None of them are really up for venturing out. Adam isn't up for venturing anywhere and only shows up because Preach demands it. McGuire's there to be fawned over, and Hannah's there because she owes herself a drink.

"Here, at least let me buy you a soda or a water or something," Hannah says, taking up the stool next to Amir.

"Only if you let me buy the next round."

"Oh, there's going to be a next round?" she asks, flagging the bartender, ordering herself a fruity cocktail with way too much vodka and a champagne soda for Amir.

"You don't exactly strike me as the 'one and done' type," Amir observes.

"I see your people-reading skills have improved since this afternoon."

He snorts and lifts the glass the bartender delivers. "Salud."

"Salud," she echoes, lifting her own glass, downing half of it in one gulp. Amir doesn't blink and Hannah relaxes.

**

She doesn't get drunk. She doesn't need to. But her alcohol tolerance is stupidly high and she's several drinks in before she switches to water. Amir, as it turns out, for as stoic as he tends to be on missions, is a decidedly captivating conversationalist. Hannah's not used to men who can keep up with her and he hasn't faltered once. Not that she's given many men the opportunity. Especially not since coming home from Mexico.

"Hannah." His voice draws her out of her head and she offers him a smile before realizing she's rubbing at her scar again. It's an awful habit. "The cartel, Sonora, it was you, wasn't it?"

She's not stupid. She knows the story circulated through the CIA. It might not've had her name attached but everyone knew. Amir is apparently no exception. "Yeah. That was me. Can we not talk about it tonight? Kind of a buzzkill."

"Consider it buried. Just...know that I get it. Maybe not all of it but,if you ever want to talk about it. Or...not talk about it," he offers.

"Let's go with not." Hannah has no intentions of reliving the past. Not with him, not tonight. Today, they came out on top, today,she can conquer the world.

"Then I'd really like to kiss you now," Amir murmurs, and Hannah can't think of one good reason to tell him no.

**

She takes him upstairs because the last thing she needs is shit from anyone else. Hannah needs exactly one thing and that's Amir. So she takes him to her room and, once the door is closed, lets him kiss her. He's more sure than she's expecting, his mouth coaxing hers open, his fingers twining in her hair.

It's Hannah who falters then, a shiver working down her spine, a soft moan escaping her. It's been nearly two years since anyone's kissed her, since she's wanted anyone to kiss her, and she's never felt that more keenly than she does right now.

"Okay?" Amir whispers, his fingers splaying against her waist, thumb sweeping reassuringly over her hip, sending sparks skittering under her skin. She can tell she's visibly trembling, but it's mostly adrenaline and need.

"Terrible question," she breathes and he laughs.

"Gonna need you to make me a list."

"Stop talking." She drags him to the bed, fingers already unbuttoning his shirt, but her hands are unsteady. Amir gently bats them away and finishes them himself.

It takes a conscious effort not to second guess herself, but Hannah unzips her dress. There are few things she shies away from but undressing in front of anyone these days makes her skin crawl. Still, she's made a point of putting Urzua behind her and she refuses to let him play any part in today. Today is about victory, plain and simple.

"I have another question," Amir murmurs. He's staring at her body, studying her, the darkness in his eyes half hunger, half awe.

"Better make it a good one."

He reaches for her, smoothing his hands down her sides and over her hips,his palms somehow rougher than she's expecting, but it's not a bad thing. Far from it.

"Let me taste you," he whispers, his lips practically against hers.

Hannah forgets to breathe but she's sinking down onto the bed and Amir is kneeling on the floor, nudging her thighs apart, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down.

He doesn't waste time teasing which, tonight,she appreciates. His mouth parts against her, his tongue dragging over her before he sucks her clit into his mouth. Hannah has to clench her jaw to stop from crying out too loudly, though she can do nothing to silence the string of breathless whimpers escaping her throat.

Amir's left arm hooks around her waist, his palm settling just under her bellybutton, his right hand pressing gently to the inside of her thigh. Like everything else he does, he takes her apart methodically, his tongue working inside her, his lips brushing over her.

What was a subtle trembling before is now nothing short of constant shuddering and Hannah feels like she's about to come out of her skin. But Amir's hands are there anchoring her, even as his mouth doesn't relent. She breaks apart with his name on her lips, her body arching off the bed. He doesn't pull away until the need drains out of her,leaving her limp and breathless, her heart racing.

Hannah reaches for him blindly and Amir settles beside her. She can feel him watching her but it takes a bit before she can open her eyes and focus on him. He looks almost smug, which, for some reason, she's not expecting and she laughs.

"Pleased with yourself?"

"Maybe a little," he admits, grinning.

"You should be." That seems to throw him off a little and Hannah is pleased. "Now I have a question."

"Okay, shoot."

She rolls onto her side, facing him, and nips at his bottom lip. "Fuck me?"

"I think that can be arranged..."

**

Hannah wakes up pressed against him, her arm slung over his torso, cheek resting against his shoulder. He's awake and she's more than a little mortified at her sleep-induced neediness.

"Sorry," she mumbles, cautiously disengaging, putting some space between them.

"No need to apologize. I was enjoying myself. You're cute when you sleep."

Hannah reaches for her phone, scoffing. "Literally no one has called me 'cute' since I was in elementary school."

"I"m sorry, did I offend you?" Amir asks wryly.

"I'm not easily offended." Satisfied that the world has survived the night, Hannah sets her phone back on the nightstand. "Wheels up in...three hours."

"Enough time for breakfast and a shower."

"Depends on the shower," Hannah says, off-handed, extracting herself from the bed.

"I can eat on the plane."

"I'm sure you can." She glances over her shoulder at him, well aware that every last scar is on display, but for once, she doesn't care.

"You want company?"

"Stupid questions, Amir. Stupid questions." Hannah saunters off into the bathroom. She leaves the door open.


End file.
